


And They Were Roommates

by Mustardcustard



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I just needed someone to make Zuko angsty so it became Jet, If You Squint - Freeform, Jet is an asshole so he doesn't get a tag, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Slight Zuko/Jet, Social Media, Tumblr Prompt, Zuko (Avatar) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, good azula, it's not really a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mustardcustard/pseuds/Mustardcustard
Summary: Zuko hated roommates.But he's got a fucking hot one.So he confides in social media for the time being, getting to know Katara's brother, Sokka, as they urge each other on to try to get to know each other's roommates.This shit is going to hurt.
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki & Yue, Suki/Yue (Avatar)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	And They Were Roommates

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a Tumblr prompt given to me by [freckledsokka](https://freckledsokka.tumblr.com/). I'd recommend checking her out if your starved for Zukka like I am. Thank you again freckledsokka, for letting me use this prompt into a fic. 
> 
> I would also like to thank the absolute amazing artists that are [6y9brows](https://6y9brows.tumblr.com/) and [katanasonata](https://katanasonata.tumblr.com/) for letting me use their amazing work for letting me use their Zuko and Sokka fanart for the profile pictures on "Twitter". Check them out as well as I fucking died just going through their blogs. 
> 
> Quick disclaimer, there is some talk of sexual activity and talk, but it's nothing explicit (I could never). Zuko also has trust issues and PTSD, which will be prevalent in the second chapter. If these themes can be triggering for you, please do not read this fic. 
> 
> And that is all, thank you again for all the people on Tumblr who helped with this fic, I sincerely appreciate you!
> 
> Edit: I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why the images are not generating directly on AO3. But they're not and I've already cried over it so if the links don't work then I'm going to cry again. Click [here ](https://mustardcustardworks.tumblr.com/post/644553311291342848/here-are-the-images-for-and-they-were-roommates) to be taken to the four images (in order) as the links aren't working

“Is this it?” Uncle asked as Zuko placed his last box on top of a stack next to his bare bed frame. He nodded, moving to shift the mattress that laid against the wall onto the wooden frame. Iroh moved as well, taking the other end to help maneuver until it fell snugly into the wood and the protective plastic covering was being crinkled off. Zuko pulled out the black sheets from his duffle by the door, tossing the pillowcases to Uncle so he could slip them on while he started making his bed. 

“Thank you again for helping me move,” Zuko spoke softly to Iroh as the wise man calmly placed the pillows on the nightstand, patting them soothingly, as if they were a scared dog. 

“Don’t worry about it nephew, you can always rely on me,” Uncle smiled at him, helping to tuck the sheet underneath the corners of the bed. A ringing from a phone interrupted them, making Iroh pull away to slip it out of his pocket. It was a video call from Azula, so Zuko dusted off his shirt before Iroh picked up. They smiled at each other in greeting, asking how each other was doing and commenting on the wonderful weather. Nothing much was going on at her school other than her disappointment for her new roommates compared to her old ones, but she still cracked a smile and asked about Zuko getting settled into his new place. 

“ _How is the move coming? Any hot roommates?_ ” She smiled at them, winking ridiculously and making Zuko roll his eyes playfully before responding.

“It’s going fine so far. It’s a nice two bed one bath so maybe one or two roommates but we haven’t seen any come in so far. The place is right on campus but not as expensive as a dorm, a great find for such a beautiful building.” Zuko smiled back at her, checking his smartwatch for the time. 

“ _I’m glad! You deserve it, Zuko._ ” Azula sighed as she jogged up the steps to her apartment building. She was hundreds of miles away from home, let alone where Zuko was going to school and even if they said goodbye a week ago, he missed her already. “ _I’m stuck with these morons, wish I had some pretty chick instead of literal dicks_ .” She rolled her eyes, the thumping music signaling she was close to her room. “ _I feel like I’m in a frat without being in a frat_.” 

They continued to talk for a little while, sharing stories and recollections before saying their farewells, giving best wishes and reminders of love. After helping to unpack clothes and organize records, it was soon time for Iroh to leave as well. They gave a warm hug and Iroh even shed a tear before he had to take the moving van back home. 

Zuko sighed as he sat on his bed, rubbing his right eye before opening another box of clothes for him to stuff into a drawer. He hated unpacking, with an undeniable passion. 

After nearly four hours of tearing open boxes, folding and hanging up clothes, sifting through photos and album covers to pick which would go on his wall, organizing his skincare and makeup, and making sure his succulents had enough lighting on the windowsill next to his bed, he considered himself nearly completely unpacked. He had one more box, but he wasn’t ready to open that one yet (maybe ever), so he slid it into his thin closet leaving little room on the floor to spare, underneath his jackets, skirts, blouses, and few dresses, along with other items he wasn’t keen on folding.

It was quite late into the night when some noise was coming from the front door. Zuko had his computer open on YouTube, trying to figure out how to work a drill for his free-standing hat rack that would fit onto the wall above his bed. He gulped at the promise of a roommate, his last experience making his stomach churn and mouth taste sick and sour. He didn’t want a relationship with anyone new at this point, either. Who he had was enough. Who he trusted wouldn’t hurt him. 

A heavy set of footsteps sounded from outside of Zuko’s closed door. They stopped for a second after throwing their keys on the table at the front, probably due to the fact that there was now a light in the once empty bedroom. The stranger didn’t linger, however. They moved past the room quickly, off into the darkness until the shower turned on. 

Zuko also hated roommates. 

After thirty minutes of utter confusion, struggle, and aching arms, Zuko put the drill into the shallow, clear bin of tools Iroh had made him bring, and shoved it far under his bed. Even as he listened to his playlist in the same headphones, and had the same pictures and lights on his walls, the room felt so much farther from home than ever. 

The rest of Zuko’s experiences with his roommate were fine for the week before classes. They didn’t speak or even see each other, just tucked into their rooms unless they were picking up food, taking a walk at the lovely park near campus, or doing their business in the bathroom. 

But he said “for the week”, remember? 

Zuko had also hated mornings, so all of his classes were scheduled for later because if he had a single eight A.M he would miss the entire curriculum. As a junior, he was much more prepared for lectures and getting on the good side of all his different professors, so his nerves weren’t as wracked as they were when he was a young freshman. He was also taking this year… again. Due to his inactiveness from the past spring semester, he was forced to take the year over again (and while money wasn’t the problem, time and effort was). 

Every year he always showed up to his first class stunning, so he wore his long, sleek black hair into two space buns with front strands forming his face, paired with the slightest bit of makeup as to not be obvious but to also make his face glow. He decided to go more masculine for his outfit, wearing a red leather jacket and black turtleneck, paired with ripped jeans and a chain belt and his black canvas cross-body messenger bag. 

He was physically and mentally prepared for his first day of classes. What he was not ready for, however, was the tanned stranger shirtless in a towel leaning against the kitchen peninsula that was right outside of Zuko’s door. 

“Fuck,” Zuko swore softly, stunned by the beauty in front of him. 

The man was tall, no scratch that, _a fucking giant_ whose stature and features made him look like a god. His tan skin was glowing from the thin layer of water on his toned chest and shoulders, glistening from the afternoon sun coming in from the tall windows of the living room. If his chest wasn’t defined and muscular, then his arms certainly were, biceps large and visible (and flexed!) from where he was leaning against the granite. After tracing the v-line left by the (insanely low) towel, Zuko’s eyes flew to the hand that was holding a phone, strong with long fingers and bulging veins ( _I_ _can’t do this right now_ ). His jaw was firm and chiseled, freshly shaven and supporting hollowed cheeks and sharp cheekbones, casting dark shadows on smooth skin. When the stranger had looked up, Zuko’s stomach did a flip from the piercing and startling blue. It was no help that his hair was down and dripping, adding to the appeal _._

“Oh shit!” The stranger jumped when he saw Zuko, clearly flustered by his own indecency. Zuko quickly averted his gaze, cheeks burning and through his racing heart and the countless thoughts flying in his mind, he just decided it would just be better if he left for class. 

“Sorry!” His roommate had called after Zuko as he closed the door behind him. He leaned his head against the back of it, taking a deep breath to try to slow his quickening heart. 

_We can’t do this again Zuko_. 

Yet against his pessimistic thoughts, he took out his phone as he walked to the elevator, opening his messages with his sister. 

_Yeah my roommate is hot_

It had only gotten worse from there. His roommate was apparently not used to living with someone else (even though according to his landlord he’s lived with many on-and-off roommates before) so he was always in a towel and coming out of the shower when Zuko was going to class or coming back from grabbing lunch, which never failed to fluster both of them. If that wasn’t the case he was shirtless and sweaty, or just plain shirtless and lying on the couch. 

It also didn’t help how undeniably attractive he was, not just when he was dripping wet but also in loose tank tops that showed off his muscle and the black band of a tribal tattoo. It was a pain in the ass when Zuko’s entire day was turned upside-down after being stunned silent and staring at this person he didn’t even know the name of. 

Because of his… situation, Zuko spent a lot of time at Katara’s spacious apartment just down the block. They had met at a sorority party last year when she was a nervous freshman trying to rush and Zuko had enough experience as a sophomore to ease her nerves. They typically just watched movies or played video games with her high-school sweetheart, Aang. Nothing out of the ordinary. He recalled the time he hung out at her place with Suki, Yue, and Toph (three other girls which he was also good friends with, the former two also trying to rush in the same sorority but ultimately dropping out with Katara when they saw how toxic the other girls were) for late night pizza and ice cream paired with a stupid, cheesy and steamy rom-com. 

“Toph you sure you don’t want me to put descriptive audio on?” Katara had asked again during commercial break. Zuko looked over to the arm-chair she was occupying, smiling as the short, blind freshman was knocked out cold, snoring and slouched with her back to the bottom cushion. Suki leaned over from where she was cuddling Yue, bringing the blanket that was on Toph’s chest up to her chin before falling back into her girlfriend's arms with a sigh and looking up at her with a sweet smile. 

“So Zuko, how did the move come along?” Yue asked him, after looking up from her girlfriend’s intoxicating heterochromia eyes, one a hazel, nearly green and the other a cool blue almost gray. 

“Fine…” He mumbled, raking his fingers through Appa’s fur, Aang’s white chow-chow, who was laying in between him and Katara’s laps. He was probably blushing just by the memory of his roommate, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. 

“Spill.” Suki urged him. 

“I just… Ugh! My roommate… He’s so- frustrating!” Zuko fumed, making Appa lift his head up in confusion. 

“Frustratingly attractive I think you mean. You got the hots for him I can already tell.” Katara sneered at him, grinning as she shifted further into her spot on the couch. He ignored Suki’s light, “ _and they were roommates_ ,” as well as Yue’s response. 

“Yes, that’s my problem.” Zuko grumbled again, coaxing Appa to place his head down again. 

“What did he do?” Suki sighed. 

“Just… existing is enough to make me get butterflies but he deliberately doesn’t wear shirts around the living room-” Zuko started.

“And he’s fit, isn’t he?” Yue filled in for him. 

“And always sweaty or dripping wet from the shower, too! He looks like…” Zuko sighed, pulling a pillow from behind his back in front of his face to hide his embarrassment at the very intrusive thought. 

“Like he just finished having sex?” Katara nudged him, causing him to take the pillow and bring it down on her face for reading his mind, causing Appa to emit a low growl. 

“It’s ok buddy.” Katara hushed the dog. He calmed a bit, but kept his eyes open to stay alert for Zuko, even if he was getting a scratch behind the ears in apology. 

“Have you guys talked?” Yue asked him again. 

“No. Just him excusing himself and apologizing whenever I catch him being… indecent.” I don’t even know his name…” Zuko put his face in his hands, ashamed of himself. 

“You have to try, Zuko.” 

“Katara I can’t... it’s so hard.”

“I know Zuko, but you have to at least want to.” 

Now, in the present, Zuko was walking back from a more recent trip to Katara’s, deciding to take the scenic route and walk through the park, stopping to get a _poke_ bowl to-go at his favorite small and conscious business. He found a shady spot under a tree to sit under which blocked the blazing afternoon sun, enjoying his avocado mango tuna whatever happily as he checked social media. 

There was a post from his mutual friend, Sokka, that had caught his eye. If Zuko had remembered correctly he was Katara’s brother, but Zuko hadn’t met him or known enough about him to send a friend request. 

@boomerangboii

He just commented, “ _So we living the same life here?_ ” before putting his phone away and savoring his delicious meal, smiling softly at a notification that signaled Sokka had liked his comment. 

~~~~~

Zuko yawned as he stretched his arms up, exiting his room and stumbling to the bathroom as he rubbed his eye. He brushed his teeth and did his business before retreating to his room to finish the rest of his routine, sitting on his knees in front of his nightstand which had his standing mirror on it. He carefully applied winged liner and dangling chain earrings that ended with a star on the shorter end and a crescent moon on the longer. He checked his watch, hurrying up to get some nice clothes on before he smudged the rest of his makeup. He lifted his head with a start when the heavy front door burst open, capping his lip-gloss hastily at the sound of hissing and staggering heavy steps that could only belong to the eye-candy of Zuko’s roommate. 

When he quickly opened his door he saw the tall man bent over holding his knee with both hands, so tightly his veins were bulging further and his tanned knuckles turned white. His face was in a tight grimace, bright eyes tight yet open just enough to see where he was going, enough for Zuko to see the pain and panic embedding in the darker blue veins of his iris. A corner of his mouth was pulled upwards, curling a thin upper lip in a snarl of pain. Zuko was distracted by his exposed back muscle due to a lack of a shirt (seriously does this guy ever have a top on?) which was shiny from sweat. 

Zuko rushed forward quickly, wordlessly pulling the man’s left arm over his shoulder and back and crouching (not by much) to reach the man’s current hunched height. His armpit was sweaty and bare chest and shoulders were drenched, but Zuko put that past him as he helped to hurry the man over to the couch, guiding him to sit down and place his leg on the coffee table as he made a breathy groan and clenched his fist and wonderful facial features. 

“What’s wrong?” Zuko rushed out, cringing at his raspy voice, even deeper and cutting the words sharper and quicker due to lack of speech in the morning. His roommate stared up at him, blue eyes nearly blinding and gorgeous, chapped lips parted, before coming to reality with a startling cyan rushing to his iris as he blinked back at his leg. Zuko tried with all of his might not to look at the equally shiny muscled chest and forbade his mind to wander. 

“I fractured my…” he gasped in pain, swallowing and punching his fist in the seat cushion (stay in the present Zuko), “Patella a few months ago... I get occasional… pains after that.” He struggled to get out, panting heavily and sweat on his forehead. His voice was thick and husky, but light with air and seemingly on the brink of laughter. Zuko nodded feverishly, blushing and running into the bathroom to hastily pull out the first aid (courtesy of Iroh who insisted it was needed), and rushed back out, quickly placing it on the couch cushion next to the injured man before continuing to rush to the kitchen. 

“Expose your knee,” Zuko said firmly, not caring about his voice any longer as he quickly washed his hand with minimal soap and hurried to the small fridge, pulling out an ice pack (thank you again Uncle) and ripping some paper towels off of the stand. When he jogged back, the man had unzipped the bottom of his jogger and rolled it up past his knee. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said softly when he placed the cold pack on the skin, flinching at a heavy cry of pain and remaining hiss that he expected, but hurt him nonetheless. 

“My room…” The man sighed, calming a little more. “There’s a crutch and a knee brace in my closet… also my medication in pill and lotion form-” Before the man could finish Zuko was off, easily locating the requested items and coming back to his knees and shaking a sanitizing wipe from the plastic kit. 

“Do you think it fractured again?” Zuko asked, flinching again when the man hissed and groaned madly at the alcohol on his large surgery scar, digging his fists into the cushions next to him until he eased to the stinging pain.

“No… this pain isn’t anything like that. Probably nerve pain from the scar tissue… it’ll subside in half an hour, just-” he clenched his jaw and teeth again in silence, “hurts like hell after rough practice.” He swallowed, still in a high state of panic but slowly calming down. Zuko placed the wipe and access garbage on a spare paper towel, taking it upon himself to soothe the medical ointment into the scarred skin delicately, knowing himself just how bad scars feel (even if they weren’t caused by the same reason). He decided to keep talking because it seemed to calm the man further (for whatever reason with his broken and shot voice). 

“You train?” Zuko asked, pulling out the roll of gauze to comfortably wrap it around his knee so the ointment would stay and spread evenly and to also help reduce the cold of the ice pack.

“Yeah, I row,” He mumbled, taking his pills and tossing his head back to down them dry. Zuko cringed at that, softly taping the edge of the gauze to the side of the knee. 

“Shit, class,” Zuko said hurriedly as he placed the ice pack on the man’s knee, checking his watch and swearing further as he quickly grabbed his bag from his room, stuffing his computer into it hastily and zipping it shut as he swung it over his shoulder, staggering out of his room. 

“Rest, ice, compress, elevate!” Zuko called after his roommate before he closed the front door, rushing down the stairs. He hadn’t even eaten anything after waking up well into the afternoon. This was a disaster. 

By sprinting he cut down his trip to the political science building in half, making him only three minutes late for his lecture, sighing happily as the doors were still open and students were still full of chatter. He slumped into a seat on the far left, catching his breath. He was never out of shape, but last semester and this past summer he had skipped the gym, losing a substantial amount of muscle mass. He would try to get back into it with enough motivation, but he was just focused on getting good grades this year. 

He turned to his professor and stopped thinking about how Mr. Beefy would have enough muscle to spare, when they had moved to the front of the room and cleared their throat, signaling the lecture was due to begin. 

Zuko hated lectures, but he had his imagination to get through it. 

When he left the large hall after his lectures (half-hard might he add) he made a speedy walk to the small Uruguayan coffee shop down the street from his apartment, getting a cappuccino and an absurd amount of _bizcochos_ to calm his painfully hungry stomach. He nodded in appreciation and thanked the kind, short, and round old lady for the sweet baked goods in his best Spanish, sitting down in a secluded corner far from doors or windows as he gratefully ate his worries away, going on his phone and deciding to post on Twitter due to the events that happened mere hours ago stilling playing on repeat in his head. 

@PrinceZuko

He set his phone down, Katara, Aang, and surprisingly Sokka, being quick to like his post in under five minutes. He bit into a _membrillo_ cookie, savoring the sweet quince jam and each of the buttery soft crumbs before his phone vibrated from another Twitter notification, Sokka had commented “ _Ikr. How do they do it?_ ” which Zuko promptly liked. He was bolder on social media, due to everything on there being believed to be the absolute extreme and/or fake, so he could pretty much put whatever. 

He sighed, tracing the edge of his glass as he let his imagination wander again, thinking of firm hands and tanned skin, sweaty abs and shoulder muscles whose smooth surface could be scarred by scratches so very easily, other ways the man would gasp and groan and collect his breath. At that point, his stomach did a flip before rising to his throat, so he asked for a bag, tipped the lady, and gathered his belongings as he made his way home. 

He was, to say the least, frustrated when Muscles wasn’t on the couch like he’d left him, deciding to ignore Zuko’s first rule, which was to rest. Zuko stalked to his room, closing it softly before flopping down on his bed and staring at his ceiling with his hands behind his head, sighing sharply as he let his little to no composer loose in private. He could think of whatever he wanted, and the mental images with the contrast of tan and pale, strong arms wrapped around Zuko’s thin waist to pull him ever closer, did not disappoint.

He fanned himself with his hand, sitting up on his bed and scrolling through his Twitter notifications. He hadn’t gone viral, but he got more likes and comments than he had ever before, so he was content and smiling as he scrolled. Coming upon another post by Sokka that caught his eye again, posted well before Zuko was out of class. 

@boomerangboii

Zuko was impressed with the numbers Sokka had wracked up, commenting “ _Do it. Life is a bitch sometimes so bite it in the ass and defy against the universe_.” 

Shortly after, he received a reply from Sokka, “ _You’re one to talk. You might actually have a chance._ ” He chuckled at that. 

“ _I’m sorry? I have no chance, my roommate is a literal godsend dusted with the light of the heavens. No thank you._ ” 

_“Again, you’re one to talk. Mine has the power of god and anime on his side._ ” 

At that, Zuko just liked it and giggled to himself, allowing someone else to respond with “ _AAAAAAAAAAAA_ ”. 

_“No, but in all seriousness though, if you feel that strongly abt someone, take it upon yourself to make the move. He’s seriously missing out if not_.” 

“ _I’m trying but he looks like the epitome of straight._ ” Zuko emphasized his predicament. 

“ _No one’s really straight when you think about it. We’re called HOMOsapiens for a reason… right?_ ” 

“ _Exactly. You’re so very right._ ” Zuko sighed and smiled at Sokka’s humor, throwing his phone to his feet as he pulled out his computer, wanting to binge a bit of TV before he got started on his homework, still too distracted. Normal people go out on a Friday night, but Zuko liked staying home in his own bubble, texting the people he trusted without having to get hurt, being selfish and trying to find more. 

At around two in the morning, Zuko was still awake, too entranced in the true-crime documentaries on Netflix to pay mind that he had been watching for nearly eight hours, only getting up to pee or closing the tab to get a headstart on his homework. He paused when he heard someone struggling to open the door, cursing loudly as they dropped their keys behind a fit of giggles by two people, a low voice that was undeniably his roommate, lower and huskier from drinks, and a high pitch stupid noise that had to belong to some blonde chic. Zuko shot up and closed his door, already knowing why his roommate would bring a girl home and not wanting to get caught up in the middle of it. 

It didn’t hurt Zuko, not one bit. But the noises coming in between the thin wall were loud and made Zuko close his computer and crumple up into a ball in his bed, trying not to focus on the thumps or moans or giggles and trying his hardest to keep the strain in his pants calm, but he was failing miserably. His arousal reached a painful state, one he could not bear for long. 

He would regret it in the morning, shamed by what he had done, but it was so easy for him to reach down, trailing his stomach to give himself time to bail, before he pushed past his boxers. 

He woke up sweaty and uncomfortable, the events happening last night coming into his head like a trainwreck. He shifted under his blankets, reaching for his phone to see what time it was, groaning at the godforsaken hour. He reluctantly got up, taking a shirt from his hamper and wiping his legs and hips clean, as well as changing out his sheets for his clean ones. He dumped it all in the hamper, putting on gray sweats and a black hoodie, tying his messy hair into a bun, and hiding it with the hood. He placed his laundry basket on his hip, opening the door so he wouldn’t have to face his roommate who was lazily lying on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He wasn’t wearing a shirt again, and Zuko saw a small purple hickey on his neck, bites on his collarbone, and scratches (the fucking scratches) on his arms and back. Zuko pulled at the left side of his hoodie, mentally cursing the man for getting him so riled up. 

Zuko muttered to himself as he shoved his clothes into his washing machine, irritated and upset for no apparent reason. The man had done nothing wrong, but his aura and casualty after doing something that caused him to be so open and vulnerable, to act like it was nothing, was bothersome to Zuko. It wasn’t like he knew the acts Zuko had done behind that wall, but it was either a sense of jealousy for the girl or envy for Muscles’ demeanor. 

As he turned the washing machine on, he realized something that changed his perspective. Maybe not in the long haul, but for a slight moment he was embarrassed and sorry for himself. He had become so attached to a human being he didn’t even know the name of, someone who had spoken little to no words to him or made the effort to start a conversation. And even if he didn’t want or need it (he knew it was hard to be dependent on people sometimes), the man hadn’t even uttered a “thank you” from after Zuko had cared for him! He was so involved and _fantasizing_ about someone else who acknowledged him at the bare minimum. Zuko grunted in disapproval of himself as he pushed the knob in to start his clothes, the machine coming alive with a startling whir. 

He opened Twitter, typing out a post he would delete later but was too much in a mood to do anything else. 

@PrinceZuko

Katara was the first one to like, commenting “ _Bitch he can have abs of steel and he won’t deserve you. Come over so I can smack some sense into your fine ass._ ” Zuko smiled at her, liking her comment before scrolling through his feed until he got another comment, this time a reply to Katara. It was Sokka again, saying “ _Periodt._ _Know your worth._ ” 

He rolled his eyes, but DMed Katara to accept the offer nonetheless, feeling moody and in desperate need of some stand-up to cheer him up. 

The rest of the following weeks were normal. Well, as normal as Zuko could make them. His roomie would get drunk every Friday (and Saturday depending on which frat was hosting) partying with his team and come home with a girl or an occasional guy (at least there’s some hope) every time he did so. Zuko didn’t dare advance like he had the first time, knowing that if he did the fiery hill of emotions would be even steeper to overcome. Sokka was still replying to Zuko, Zuko to Sokka, even private messaging each other to urge them on to who they liked (Zuko refused to call it a crush). 

“ _Bitch just fucking tell him you like him before I get your address from Katara and force you to._ ” Zuko had typed. 

“ _No cause then you’d be blown away by this god of a twink and like him too, smh._ ” He smiled a little at Sokka’s response. 

“ _Bitch nuh uh. I got my muscle man over here._ ”

“ _So why tf won’t you tell him you like him too?!_ ” 

“ _Because rejection is imminent so let me enjoy things from afar_.”

“ _Hypocrite._ ” 

“ _That’s becoming your name on twitter from now on._ ” Zuko sent him a screenshot as proof. 

But at some point, he started falling. He didn’t know into what, but it felt familiar. 

Which made it hurt even more. 

It was the first day of October. Store fronts and restaurants had put up fall and Halloween decorations, getting Zuko into the mood for pumpkin spiced everything and a walk in Ugg boots on a colorful, leafy dirt path. It was his favorite time of the year, where he could wear natural earthy tones the most often, which suited him the best, and be the most basic bitch possible. He had come home from a long day of late classes, rubbing his eye as he placed his keys at the front table, stomach growling from nothing in it since breakfast. 

“Good afternoon.” A familiar, husky voice had asked him from the living room, perfectly slouched on the couch with a remote lazily held in his tanned hand with long, perfect fingers. He had a shirt on, luckily, but it was one of those damned tank tops that still exposed his arms and the slightest bit of his side. Zuko swallowed, taking off his scarf and putting it on the hat rack before gaining the courage to look into the sea of... blue that seemed to emit from the man. He seemed like a wild card, like the waves in the ocean, calm one moment but able to surge and drown a victim the next. 

“Good afternoon to you as well.” Zuko said, fidgeting with his fingers as he stood at the edge of the living room, cringing at his voice. He didn’t know the man well, so it could have well scared him off at the raspiness. 

“I uh… I didn’t get to thank you for helping me with my knee a few weeks back. That was… very kind of you to do for a stranger who was just… shirtless in your living room.” The man got up, walking over to Zuko and being taller than he had remembered, making Zuko look up a decent amount to meet his gaze. It made him swallow again, Zuko wasn’t short by any means but… damn. 

“Don’t mention it…” Zuko said coolly, smiling softly. “I’m sure you would have done the same for me.”

“Still I uh… I couldn’t help but notice you often come home late from your classes.” Zuko couldn’t help but think over the word “home”, something that seemed intimate yet so simple at the same time. He followed the tall man into the kitchen, looking at the dishes on the counter. “So I made you dinner. I know it’s not much and I suck at cooking but-” 

Zuko’s heart was caught in his throat, taking away his breath and turning his feet to stone. He blinked at the Caesar salad, avocado toast, and charcuterie board of different meats, cheeses, and fruits. He gasped, taken aback by the insanely kind gesture. 

“Thank you.” Zuko said without hesitation, not cringing at his voice and how soft the words were. “This is-” Tears threatened to well in his eyes, but he blinked them back. “This is… Thank you.” Was all he managed to say. The stranger put a hand behind his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. 

“I’m Sokka by the way,” he extended an arm to Zuko, and he took it lightly. 

“Zuko. Nice to meet you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> They're idiots your honor.


End file.
